


As You Wish

by mjduncan



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: AU Week, DEBS AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-28 22:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjduncan/pseuds/mjduncan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helena, Myka, and a Halloween party. A follow-up (of sorts) to my Bering and Wells AU DEBS fic 'Come With Me'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Wish

“This is bloody insane. You know that, right?” Wolly drawled as he studied his reflection in the mirror. Beside him, HG was twisting from side to side, inspecting the fit of her trousers that were so tight that, had he not watched her hopping around the loft wiggling her way into them, he would have sworn that they had been painted on her.

“Bollocks,” Helena muttered, scowling in feigned annoyance at her friend. “I think these trousers are absolutely divine.”

“It wasn’t the trousers that I was referring to,” Wolly retorted, eyeing HG's outfit with an appreciative smirk. Dressed in black from head to toe, she was a sight to behold. For as tight as her trousers were, her shirt was loose and billowy, with a deep cut down the middle that, if caught from the right angle, gave a spectacular side-boob view because the lace-up ties that were supposed to hold it closed were not tied. “Or your shirt, for that matter.”

Helena laughed and smacked his arm playfully. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was intended as one.” He sighed and turned back to his reflection. He had foregone the dreadlocked wig HG had tried to foist on him at the costume shop, but had allowed her to raid their disguise bin to give him some facial hair. The scraggly beard and moustache already itched like mad, but even he had to admit that it altered his appearance enough that he should not be recognized at the party. “Seriously, HG…please explain to me, again, why we are crashing a DEBS Halloween party?”

“Because Myka told me that I would never be able to pull it off,” Helena murmured as she adjusted the black scarf over her hair and tied her black mask around her eyes. Truthfully, she had some serious doubts about showing up at a costume party hosted by the Myka and the rest of the Section One group at their house. She was quite accomplished at sneaking in and out of places without being caught, of course, but walking into the middle of a DEBS party where everybody knew who she was and wanted her captured (Myka being the lone exception) was going to be a feat of legendary proportions should she pull it off. But the devilish glint in Myka’s eye when the young agent told her to just stay at the lair and “hand out candy to any kids industrious enough to make it past the razor wire, armed guards, and land mines” had been a challenge.

And Helena G. Wells _never_ backs down from a challenge.

Deciding that she was satisfied with her appearance, Helena turned, picked up an artfully faded black leather tricorn hat, and slapped it onto Wolly’s head. “Now, quit with your grousing and let’s get moving. The faster we get there, the faster I can find Myka.”

+++/+++\\+++

It did not take much stealth at all on their part to simply walk up the front path to the Top Squad’s house and through the wide-open front door. Helena smirked over her shoulder at Wolly as they stepped into the foyer, and tilted her head at the small gaggle of girls on the porch behind them who were quite obviously checking the both of them out. “I told you these costumes would be a hit, darling.”

“Yeah, well…” Wolly murmured, adjusting the hat on his head as he smiled at a particularly cute brunette. “I guess there is something about the whole ‘bad boy’ thing.”

Helena chuckled and slapped him on the back. “You have no idea, mate.” She smirked and added, “Will you be all right on your own?”

“I think I’ll be able to manage,” Wolly assured her with a grin, his attention trailing back to the brunette who was still watching him. “Try not to get caught.”

Helena’s eyes shifted from her friend to scan the room, her right hand dropping to the handle of the rapier attached to her belt as she realized exactly how many DEBS were at the party. It really was a foolhardy idea on her part to try and pull this particular endeavor off. “That is the plan,” she agreed, giving him one last wry grin before she ambled through the foyer and into the living room in search of Myka.

She eventually found her leaning against the back porch railing and looking out over the plaid force-field protected backyard, effectively hiding from the festivities inside. A slow smile curled her lips as her eyes trailed over Myka’s outfit: thigh-high heeled boots, tight black breeches that did wonderful things to her backside, a fitted purple velvet jacket with poufy gold shoulders, and a black lace-trimmed hat to top it all off. “Athos or Porthos?” she drawled, amusement evident in her voice as she stepped out onto the porch. “Or…perhaps D’Artagnan?” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Myka her best devil-may-care grin. “How very literary of you,” she teased, referring to Myka’s not-so-secret obsession with literature. Honestly, if Myka had not earned a perfect score on the DEBS' secret test in the SATs and been recruited by the agency, she would have been perfectly content studying literature at an Ivy League university somewhere.

Myka could not contain her grin as she looked up to find Helena watching her and she laughed as she pushed herself to her feet, her right hand dropping to adjust the rapier at her waist so that it hung more comfortably. “Like you’re one to talk. The Dread Pirate Roberts, I presume?”

“You presume correctly, my dear,” Helena said, rolling her hand in front of her waist as she bowed with a flourish. She winked as she straightened, and added, “I always did fancy being a pirate when I was a child.”

“That…is actually quite fitting,” Myka chuckled.

Helena smirked. “I take it you are a fan of Dumas’ novel?”

Myka shrugged. “Some girls play with Barbies, and some girls take fencing lessons. I just happened to fall into the latter category. And, well, a sword does come in handy when one is fending off unwelcome suitors.”

“I cannot argue with that,” Helena agreed, patting the hilt of her own sword affectionately as she crossed slowly to where Myka was still standing. “And what about welcome suitors?”

“Well,” Myka drawled, her lips curling in amusement, “a good fencing match is kind of like foreplay.”

Helena laughed and tipped her head in agreement. “So we are to duel this evening?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement behind her mask as she ran the pad of her index finger down the open V of Myka’s jacket. She bit her lip as she tugged at the fabric to try and steal a peek, and frowned when she realized that Myka had not undone the zipper enough to allow for it.

“I think we can find better things to do with our time,” Myka murmured, her eyes flicking from Helena's hand on her chest, to the master criminal's lips. “Now, be a good pirate and ravish me already.”

Needing no further encouragement, Helena wrapped her arms around Myka’s waist and pulled her in close. “As you wish,” she whispered as she lifted her chin and claimed Myka’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss. She sighed happily when they broke apart, and could not resist brushing a quick, chaste kiss to Myka’s lips. “I have missed you, darling.”

“How was London?” Myka asked, arching a brow knowingly.

“Should have known that you lot would have heard about that,” Helena chuckled. “London was…London. The weather was a bit dreary, of course, but that is to be expected.”

“And the Monet that has gone missing from the National Gallery?”

Helena shrugged, a sly smile tweaking her lips. “The Monet is now in the possession of a _very_ appreciative collector in Dubai.”

“Mmhmm,” Myka hummed. “I’ll bet. And the diamond and emerald necklace that disappeared from the Victoria and James Museum?”

Helena bit her lip in an attempt to contain her grin. The attempt failed, of course, but she was hopeful that Myka would find it endearing. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” Myka answered automatically, before catching herself and shaking her head. “I mean, no. No!”

“Shame, really. It is a most exquisite piece,” Helena murmured. “The ring, as well.”

“There was a ring, too?” Myka asked, surprised. Her brow furrowed as she replayed the briefing her team had received about the incident the day before. “That was not in the police or insurance reports the museum filed.”

“Probably because the proprietors ‘acquired’–” Helena surrounded the word with air finger quotes, “–the ring from a rather brilliant import/export entrepreneur whom they hired to retrieve it from a private collector in Germany two years ago.”

Myka shook her head. “I don’t want to know about it.”

“Then I shan’t tell you any more,” Helena murmured. She tipped her head at the open door behind her, through which the opening strands of “A Little Respect”—her all-time favorite song—could heard. She did not bother to hide the way her hips automatically began to sway with the beat as she asked, “Dance with me? Or, perhaps in light of our recent discussion,” she drawled, her usual playful smirk inching into place, “you would rather duel? I am amenable to whichever method of foreplay you prefer, darling, I just wish to see how good that costume of yours looks on my bedroom floor later.”

Myka smiled and rolled her eyes. “While I would not mind taking that ego of yours down a notch, Ms. Wells, I don’t really think this is the time or the place for us to duel.”

“How unfortunate,” Helena murmured, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She held out her hand and, with a small bow, asked, “Then, if we are not to cross blades this evening, would you honor me with your hand for a dance?”

As whenever she was around Helena, Myka found herself utterly charmed by the Englishwoman’s Victorian-era formalities, and she smiled as she laid her hand on top of Helena’s. “With pleasure,” she said, curling her fingers around Helena’s hand.

The party was in full-swing by the time they made their way back to the living room, and Myka felt her pulse kick up at the sight of so many of her fellow DEBS. “Maybe we should just go back outside…”

“Nonsense.” Helena waved a hand at the center of the room where Wolly was dancing sandwiched between three women. “If they haven’t recognized Wolly yet, I dare say I, too, will be safe from detection. Now, I do believe you promised me a dance, milady.”

Myka allowed Helena to spin her around so that they were face-to-face, and she smiled as she wrapped her arms around the Englishwoman’s neck in a very un-Victorian fashion. “He should be careful, you know. The cute little redhead on his left is Lisa from Interpol.”

“Indeed she is,” Helena agreed with a smirk.

Myka sighed. “Please tell me you’ve never…”

“Who, me?” Helena shook her head. “Never,” she assured Myka, choosing to not add that it was through no fault of her own. She had tried several times over the years to seduce the agent, but the woman had no interest in expanding her sexual boundaries.

“Thank god,” Myka muttered. She turned her attention shifting back to Wolly and the three slutty witches whose breasts were barely contained by their costumes. Lisa’s boss at Interpol would flip his shit if he saw her in that outfit, he was the most up-tight bureaucrat Myka had ever had the unfortunate pleasure to come across, and Myka grinned as she noticed Claudia taking the woman’s picture with her phone from across the room. No doubt, that photograph would make its way to Lisa’s boss’s private email by the end of the night. “So, is Wolly supposed to be Captain Jack Sparrow?”

“He is,” Helena confirmed.

“Could you guys not find a wig to finish the costume?” Myka asked, looking back at Helena.

“He wouldn’t wear the bloody wig,” Helena muttered, shaking her head as she smoothed her hands up and down over Myka’s hips. “Said it itched, the big baby.” She smiled at Myka’s amused laugher, and leaned in to brush her lips over the Agent’s ear. “These breeches look absolutely divine on you, darling.”

Although Helena always made sure to let her know exactly how desirable she found her, Myka still blushed at the compliment. “Thank you.”

Helena smirked and let her fingers dance quickly over the glorious swell of Myka’s backside before returning to her hips. “Thank you,” she purred.

“Always have to get the last word in,” Myka muttered, her blush deepening at the obvious desire in Helena’s gaze. The Englishwoman’s dark eyes were nearly the same color as the mask that surrounded them, and Myka felt the familiar stirring of desire low in her belly as she stared into their obsidian depths. She took a deep breath and added, “Just dance with me, Wells.”

“As you wish,” Helena murmured, somehow managing to slide even closer to Myka as she began to move her body in time with the music.

Dancing with Helena was something Myka knew she would never tire of, and she licked her lips as she allowed the hands on her hips to guide her into motion. They garnered more than their fair share of attention as they danced, though not because any of the other partygoers recognized HG. A lot of it was surprise that Myka was dancing so intimately with a woman—though Claudia’s expression was both smug and knowing, and Myka chose to ignore any thoughts that pertained to wondering exactly how much the genius knew—but what really drew the room’s eyes to them was the _way_ they were dancing. There was something in the way they moved together: hips rolling with perfect synchronicity, eyes locked onto each other, small, secretive smiles tweaking their lips, that demanded attention.

And they had _everybody’s_ attention. To the point that, during their fifth or sixth song, Wolly tore himself away from the three wicked witches he had been dancing with to “accidentally” bump into the couple. “You’re drawing quite a bit of attention, mate,” he muttered in HG’s ear as he mock-stumbled past her to the kitchen. “I’ll find another way home. You lot go ahead and take the car,” he added, tipping his head pointedly at the door.

Helena flashed Myka a rueful smile and arched a brow questioningly. “What do you say?”

Myka looked around the room, noting the way everyone’s eyes seemed to jump away from them to the walls, or the floor, or the ceiling, and nodded. “I think he has a point,” she said with a small sigh.

Sensing Myka’s displeasure, Helena wrapped her arms around the Agent’s waist and held her tight. “Shall we go, then? If you’d like, we could always duel once we get to the Lair…”

Myka chuckled and shook her head. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“And tonight?” Helena replied playfully, looking up at Myka through her lashes.

“Tonight we’ll see how good your costume looks on your bedroom floor,” Myka quipped, smiling as she leaned in and brushed a quick kiss across Helena’s lips.

Helena hummed her approval as Myka pulled away, and gallantly offered the Agent her arm. “As you wish, darling.” She beamed as Myka’s hand slipped into the crook of her elbow and wasted no time making her way toward the front door.

Nobody bothered them as they made their way down the front walk and, once they reached the street, Myka slipped her hand into Helena’s and twined their fingers together. The blue Cadillac was parked just around the corner, and she pulled her sword from its sheath and set it on the backseat as she climbed inside though the door Helena held open for her.

The drive from the DEBS Sector One house to the Evil Lair was filled with companionable silence, engaging conversation, and more than a few teasing touches and stolen kisses. Myka felt herself relax as they rolled through the perimeter gate at HG’s compound, and by the time Helena parked the car in the underground garage, all that was left was a nearly crippling desire to touch the beautiful woman beside her.

The lowest level of the Lair was bustling with the expected number of henchmen, and Myka smiled as the elevator doors separated them from the crowd. Not that the men did not know who she was or what she was to HG, but they had only been seeing each other for a couple months and Myka was still not entirely comfortable being surrounded by Helena’s men. When it was just the two of them, or the two of them with Wolly, for there was something about Helena’s best friend that put her instantly at ease, it was a lot easier to overlook the fact that she was dating an international super-villain who was on every Most Wanted list in the world.

Thankfully, the moment they were truly alone, Helena’s lips descended on her own with such fervent passion that it was impossibly easy to forget who either of them were and why, exactly, they should be doing what they were doing. Like always, whenever it was just the two of them, it was impossible for her to deny that being with Helena just felt right. It was the most natural thing in the world, and she knew that she was long past the point of no return when it came to the charismatic thief. They stumbled across the private apartment once the elevator doors opened, mouths exchanging wet, sloppy kisses as hands roamed over familiar curves and valleys.

Once they reached the side of the bed, Helena’s mouth gentled, her kisses becoming slower, sweeter, and more reverent as she tenderly cradled Myka’s face in her hands. It was getting harder and harder for her to leave for days, and sometimes even weeks at a time, to keep her empire running. The capers were still fun, the planning that went into each a welcome puzzle, but—and it terrified to admit it—being bad just didn’t _feel_ good anymore. She knew how to act her part, of course, she had been an international crime boss for too long to lose that swagger, but while she used to spend her days dreaming of her next heist, now she dreamt of being right where she was in the moment.

“Helena,” Myka murmured, her voice a soft, breathy sigh as Helena’s lips brushed lightly over her jaw to her ear.

“Yes, darling?” Helena bit down lightly on Myka’s earlobe, and grinned at the tremor that rolled through her. Not waiting for Myka to reply, she ran the tip of her tongue down to the sweet hollow beneath the hinge of Myka’s jaw to begin licking and sucking at her pulse point.

“God, that feels good,” Myka groaned, her hands dropping to grab hold of Helena’s biceps as her knees threatened to buckle. She rolled her eyes in response to the throaty chuckle that tickled the skin of her throat.

“I know, dear,” Helena assured her. She blew lightly over the dampened skin as she let her hands slide slowly up and down Myka’s torso, skimming her sides and just barely brushing against the swell of her breasts before continuing onward, leaving Myka breathing heavily as she arched toward her in a silent plea for more.

Helena knew that Myka’s thigh-high boots, while a treat to the eye, were not going to be easily removed while standing, so she set her attention higher, her long fingers seeking out and finding the small tab on the zipper for Myka’s jacket. She took a slow, deep breath as she curled her fingers around the tab, and smiled at Myka as she began slowly pulling it down, her movements so achingly precise that it was possible to discern when each tooth released with an inaudible _snick_.

Myka held her breath as Helena’s hand slipped below her breasts, and she bit her lip to try and contain her smile as she watched Helena’s eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“I must say,” Helena purred, her free hand slipping into the open V of Myka’s jacket to stroke lightly up and down the valley between the Agent’s exposed breasts, “I quite like this look on you.” She leaned back and gave Myka a thorough once-over, her eyes lingering on Myka’s breasts that were now just barely contained by the fabric of her jacket. She did so love with the Agent chose to go without a bra, and she licked her lips as she drank in the luscious sight before her. “Beautiful,” she whispered, leaning in and capturing Myka’s lips in a searing kiss as she gave up all pretenses of the slow tease and yanked the zipper down.

Myka shrugged out of the jacket as Helena’s hands covered her breasts, and sighed at the way the Englishwoman’s fingers began nimbly working at her nipples, rolling and tweaking until they were tight, hard points.

Helena smiled at the feeling of Myka’s hands tugging her shirt from her trousers. “Impatient, are we?”

“It’s been a week and a half,” Myka muttered as she finally worked Helena’s blouse free. “Damn right I’m impatient,” she added as she yanked the shirt up over the Englishwoman’s head and tossed it in the general direction of the clothes hamper. “You’re like a drug. I just can’t get enough of you.”

“I have never been compared to an illicit substance before,” Helena mused as she dropped her hands to Myka’s belt and began pulling it open. “But, I must admit–” she ripped the thick leather strap from around Myka’s waist and let it fall in a loose curl on the floor, “–that I cannot get enough of you, either.”

Myka’s heart fluttered into her throat at the blatant affection in Helena’s tone. “Helena…”

Helena pressed a sweet kiss to Myka’s lips as she flicked open the snap on her breeches. “Yes, darling?” she breathed as she tugged the zipper down and flared the tight trousers open. She smiled at the feeling of rough lace against her fingertips, and chuckled softly at the way Myka’s breath hitched when she stroked her gently through her panties. “Is there something you need?” she teased, easing her hand further into Myka’s breeches and curling her fingers upward.

“You,” Myka moaned, her hips rolling against Helena’s hand.

“As you wish,” Helena murmured, pulling her hand out from between Myka’s legs to begin working her breeches down over her hips. She guided Myka back onto the bed so she could finish stripping her of the remainder of her clothing, and she gave the boots a long stare as she set them carefully on the floor beside the bed.

Maybe later she would be able to talk Myka into putting those back on.

The unfettered desire in Helena’s gaze made Myka’s stomach clench, and she cleared her throat softly as she wiggled back onto the bed. “Let me see you,” she said, her eyes trailing slowly over Helena’s half-naked body. While she rather enjoyed the vision before her—a topless Helena Wells in a pair of incredibly low-slung, skin-tight black pants was an incredibly, mouth-wateringly sexy sight, indeed—she wanted to feel the smooth crush of the Englishwoman’s skin against her own.

Helena was able to shuck her boots and socks easily enough, but her pants were another matter altogether. She had hoped that they would be easier to take off than they had been to get into, but that was not looking like it was the case at all. She looked up at the sound of Myka’s amused laughter, and scowled. “This is not as easy as it looks, darling,” she said as she continued to wiggle the pants down over her thighs. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”

“Would you like some help?”

“I think I can manage on my own,” Helena said, her brow furrowed as she focused on her task.

Myka grinned and tilted her head to better appreciate the view of Helena’s breasts and she tried to shimmy her way out of her pants. “Are you sure about that?”

“Your vote of confidence is overwhelming,” Helena grumbled petulantly. She let out a triumphant bark of laughter as the trousers finally began to move more easily, and smirked up at Myka as she stomped her way out of them. “See?”

“I do.” Myka crooked a finger and beckoned Helena closer. “But I want a closer view.”

“Mmm? How close?” Helena climbed onto the bed and used her knees to nudge Myka’s legs open. “How’s this?” she whispered, brushing a quick kiss over Myka’s lips as she lowered her hips into the cradle of Myka’s thighs.

“Much better,” Myka sighed as Helena’s hips rolled into her. She reached up and pulled Helena down onto her, a low moan rumbling in the back of her throat at the delicious feeling of Helena’s breasts crushed against her own.

“And how about this?” Helena asked, flicking her tongue over Myka’s lips as she shifted to straddle her thigh.

A pleasant shiver rolled down Myka’s thigh at the feeling of Helena’s arousal coating her skin as the Englishwoman’s hips thrust against her, and she swallowed thickly as she nodded. “Amazing.”

Helena hummed her agreement as she reclaimed Myka’s lips in a kiss that was slow and deep as their hips began rolling together in a seductive rhythm that was theirs and theirs alone. Thrust and counter-thrust, breasts pushing, rubbing together as they moved, Helena smiled at the feeling of Myka’s left hand latching onto her ass as the Agent’s right threaded itself in her hair, holding her close and pulling her closer as they raced headlong into release.

Myka cried out softly at the feeling of dull teeth sinking into her shoulder as Helena came undone, and she followed shortly thereafter, shaking and trembling in her lover’s embrace.

When Myka’s hold on  her loosened, Helena pressed one last kiss to her lips before sliding lower, dragging her lips over the plane of Myka’s body until she was nestled between her thighs. She smiled at the way one of Myka’s hands found its way back into her hair as she let her tongue dance lightly through swollen folds, and a low moan rumbled in the back of her throat as she wrapped her arms around Myka’s legs and dove in for more.

Myka’s back arched off the bed as she rolled her hips against Helena’s mouth, and she fisted the pillow beneath her head when the Englishwoman’s tongue pushed inside her. “Oh, god,” she gasped, capturing her lower lip between her teeth as Helena’s tongue began thrusting in and out of her, curling and rubbing against every spot that made Myka see stars. The feeling of absolute euphoria singing in her veins was addictive, and Myka squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the familiar heat of her building climax begin to spread through her.

_No, no, no_ , Myka thought as she tried to recall the lecture she had sat through that afternoon. _By utilizing contacts and relationships that the local DEBS have established, it is possible for an elite team to circumvent the established local hierarchy of authority and…_

Myka shuddered as Helena’s tongue dipped lower, dragging back and forth over her opening with slow, heavy licks.Shallow thrusts from that wicked tongue made her hips practically levitate off the mattress, and she groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember more of Professor M’s lecture. She was not ready to fall yet. She wanted more—more Helena, more heat, more of the way her pulse pounded like a timpani in her ears and her blood practically boiled in her veins. But the coaxing roll of Helena’s fingers over her clit made it impossible for her to hold back, and she screamed Helena’s name as her released slammed into her.

Helena smiled as she gentled her touch and continued to lap lightly at Myka, encouraging her orgasm to continue for as long as humanly possible. When the last wreaking spasm left Myka boneless above her, Helena kissed her way up the Agent’s body until she was able to rest her forehead against Myka’s. These were the moments she loved best. Where Myka, always so guarded, was wide-open in front of her. Affection shimmered clear as day in her eyes, and Helena felt her heart clench with the fear that it did not mean what she hoped it did.

That it was not as strong as what she felt for Myka.

“Don’t move,” Myka whispered, wrapping her arms around Helena’s waist and holding her close.

Helena smiled and captured Myka’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss, letting the Agent taste herself on her tongue. “As you wish, darling,” she murmured when the kiss finally broke.

There was a tenderness in Helena’s tone that made Myka’s heart skip a beat and she licked her lips nervously as she combed her fingers through the Englishwoman’s hair. “You do know that when Westley said ‘as you wish’, he really meant ‘I love you’, right?” Myka asked softly.

“I do,” Helena said, her heart racing in her chest as she anticipated Myka’s next question. She had, of course, realized what she had been setting herself up for by choosing her costume and repeating that infamous line over and over again all evening, and she was both pleased and suddenly terrified that Myka had connected the dots as well. The last woman to whom she had said those words had broken her heart, leaving her with an irrational desire to blow up Australia, and she offered up a silent prayer that Myka would return her feelings. She was pretty sure she did, but still… She bit her lip as she looked up into Myka’s warm green eyes and asked, “Is that all right?”

Myka smiled and nodded. “Say it,” she demanded gently. “Please.”

Helena pushed herself up onto her elbow so that she could look Myka in the eye, drawing strength from the warmth staring back at her. “I love you.”

If it were possible for Myka’s heart to fly from her chest with happiness, it surely would have at the sound of Helena saying those three little words. “I love you too.” She could not contain her grin as she lifted her head to capture Helena’s lips with her own. The kiss started slowly, the most tender clasping of lips, but it quickly became deeper, hotter, and hungrier, and Myka chuckled at the soft gasp that escaped Helena when she used her hips to help her flip them over.

“Hello,” Helena murmured, reaching up to run a gentle hand over Myka’s jaw.

Myka’s eyes were burning with affection as she gazed adoringly down at Helena. “I love you.”

Helena relaxed into the mattress, the thumb of her right hand brushing lightly over  Myka’s cheek as her left dropped onto the pillow beside her head. Everything about her, from her expression to the position of her body, was one of contented submission, and she smiled as she whispered, “I love you too, darling.”

“Let me make love to you?” Myka asked, her right hand already beginning to draw light, spiraling patterns over Helena’s lean torso.

The feeling of Myka’s fingers slowly tracing the perimeter of her nipple sent a pleasant shudder down Helena’s spine, and she nodded. “Do with me as you wish, my Myka. I am yours.”

 

End.


End file.
